Go | New | Find | Notify | Tools | Reply |
Member |
I bought a couple of books of translations of Chinese poetry while I was in Beijing. For the most part the poems chosen are different but there are a few duplications and it occurred to me that it might be interesting to compare the translations. The two books are “100 Ancient Chinese Poems” and “The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry”. I’d like to look at the two translations of the poem “River Snow” by Liu Zongyuan (773-819) The version in “100 Ancient Chinese Poems: was translated by Xu Yuanchong. The poems in this collection have been translated into standard rhyming western forms. This one reads From hill to hill no bird in flight; From path to path no man in sight. A straw-cloak’d man in a boat, lo! Fishing on a river, clad in snow. In the other book the decision has been made to (mostly) not be concerned with rhyme, instead trying to translate the mood of the piece. Their version, translated by Tony Barnstone and Chou Ping reads A thousand mountains. Flying birds vanish. Ten thousand paths. Human traces erased. One boat, bamboo hat, bark cape-an old man alone, angling in the cold river. Snow. I have listened to the audio CD of the Chinese version solely to get a sense of the rhythm and a feel for the mood of the piece. It matches far more closely the feel of the second poem. Now obviously I don’t understand the words in the original but I can listen to the sound of the poem. So here’s the thing – neither the Chinese original nor the second translation rhyme – therefore if your definition of poetry suggests it must rhyme then they are not poems at all. The first translation does rhyme and therefore is a poem, should you choose to accept such a definition. However the second translation seems much better to me. The first has taken a beautiful and evocative series of images* and turned them into what is, to my ear, scarcely more than greetings card doggerel. The non-rhyming translation, again for me, paints a picture. I can see the mountains. I can picture a sky absent of birds and mountain paths absent of people. I can see the lonely fisherman far below in his boat. Put simply, the second translation seems a far better poem than the first one. This is not mean as a criticism of the first translator. Clearly they were working to a different end and, with their intentions in mind, both have made a decent job of doing what they set out to do. It’s just that I believe that this example (as with others from the two books) shows how much more effective an unrhymed poem can be than its rhymed equivalent. (* I know that the original is beautiful and evocative because, in a lengthy introduction on the translation process, the authors use it as an example, specifying in detail what the effect of the original is and how they went about replicating it in a new language.) So, does anyone disagree with me and consider the first translation a better poem? I’m open to contradiction. "No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money." Samuel Johnson. | ||
|
Member |
And, since for most of us, poetry is a written medium, I've included the Chinese original below with a third translation from the Wikipedia article on Liǔ Zōngyuán (link: 千山鳥飛絕 萬徑人蹤滅 孤舟蓑笠翁 獨釣寒江雪 River Snow A thousand mountains, no sign of birds in flight; Ten thousand paths, no trace of human tracks. In a lone boat, an old man, in rain hat and straw raincoat, Fishing alone, in the cold river snow. I don't speak or read Chinese, although I have studied it a little bit on and off in the past. The only characters I recognize are the first three in the first line (one thousand mountains bird) and the third one in the second line (man). Notice how compact the poem is: 5x4 characters for 20 syllables. Also, notice the lack of punctuation. Just out of curiosity, I looked in a Chine-English dictionary for the second two characters of the second line (one million/ten thousand paths). The character obviously means a lot like the English word myriad (from a Greek word for 10,000). Chinese is an analytic language. There is little to no inflection (e.g., no suffixes to indicate plural). So the first two characters of the first line I have "translated" as 'one thousand paths', but literally it is just 'thousand path'. The next character, I have "translated 'bird', but really without knowing the context in the rest of the line, it very well might be 'birds'. Western metrical poetry has something called a caesura which usually divides a line into two equal parts. It looks like this poem, owing to the odd number of words in a line has more of a pivot-word. It would be interesting to see what the tones for the 20 words are, but I do not have the time for that. As for the qualities, I think the second one is marginally better than the first, but the holiday greeting card quality of this much-translated poem may be due to its often being turned into a poster / picture. —Ceci n'est pas un seing. | |||
|
Member |
Thanks zm. I didn't know how to post the Chinese version. My feeling is that the first of my translations just hs that tumpety-tum sound to it that makes it feel like "From me to you I'd like to say have a very happy day" which undermines the actual meaning whereas the second sounds, in some way I'm struggling to articulate, "right". I don't think it's marginal. The "Hallmark" quality of the first verse has nothiing to do with the image itself (for me at least) and everything to do with the words used. The third translation that you provide to my ear also sounmds better than the rhyming one. "No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money." Samuel Johnson. | |||
|
Member |
To me, the second two sound more complex...more like poetry. The first one sounds superficial, like "Roses are red; violets are blue; sugar is sweet, and so are you." I am impressed, z, with your ability to figure out so much, even though you say you've only studied Chinese "...a little bit on and off in the past." | |||
|
Member |
Thanks, K. I forgot to mention that the Chinese version, in its symmetry reminds me of a concrete poem. Or a magic square. Your take on the first translation Bob reminds me of a book I bought years ago about kitsch literature: e.g., Romance novels, Westerns, basically genre fiction. More often than not, in poetry, referred to as doggerel. The cheap and casual rhymes help. Doggerel usually gets the rhymes and meter right without the other things (the emotional impact, the stylized and often archaic language), in other words, the poetry. I'm sure there are many samples more ... —Ceci n'est pas un seing. | |||
|
Member |
I agree that the second and third versions are 'proper' poetry. As Zm says, the first translation is doggerel. It would be fine as a nursery rhyme, but otherwise ... Build a man a fire and he's warm for a day. Set a man on fire and he's warm for the rest of his life. | |||
|
Member |
But then, Emily Dickinson wrote in "doggerel", otherwise known as common meter., used in hymns, nursery rhymes, folk songs, sea chanties. Here's "Because I Could Not Stop for Death" to the tune of Gilligan's Island TV show theme: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ssfYCrRe7lE. And how about "I Felt A Funeral in my Brain" to the tune of "The Yellow Rose of Texas": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ssfYCrRe7lE This would be a fun game, I think. Another variation I like is "Amazing Grace" sung to the tune of "The House of the Rising Sun": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4ap22IjUnY | |||
|
Member |
But then, Emily Dickinson wrote in "doggerel", otherwise known as common meter., used in hymns, nursery rhymes, folk songs, sea chanties. She most certainly did not. Go back and read my post. I said, basically, that there are poems that rhyme and have meter, but which lack a certain something that good poetry has, and are therefore what is called doggerel. Also, NB, that I did not say that doggerel was not poetry. There is more to good poetry than form (or formal structure), there is the emotional impact and a certain turn of phrase, or style. The same can be said for bad blank verse. Just not having meter and rhyme, does not a good poem make. —Ceci n'est pas un seing. | |||
|
Member |
I've heard of doggerel to mean "nonsense" or "drivel," but I didn't know there was a doggerel verse or doggerel rhythm. | |||
|
Member |
What you're discussing reminds me of St-Exupery's statement, "Perfection is achieved not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away." It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society. -J. Krishnamurti | |||
|
Member |
Well of course I agree, z, just having a little fun . Dickinson's turn of phrase was radical for her time. No doubt its ellipses & experimental word-play-- within a confined meter that can make lesser poems sound like ditties-- paved the way to modern poetry; she is one of few poets of that generation who are still widely read & enjoyed today. I love that quote, Geoff; it describes my favorite poems. | |||
|
Member |
There's nothing better than a good quote, in my opinion. I love it, too, Geoff. I know Churchill really didn't say this, but I use it all the time anyway with our editors who focus a lot on not ending a sentence with a preposition: "That is something up with which I will not put!" I love that one, too. Good quotes make my day! | |||
|
Powered by Social Strata |
Please Wait. Your request is being processed... |